


a dip in the pool, a trip--in the pool?

by astrxd, wonderwhy



Series: High School Musical AU [1]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: (it's rather HSM 2 centric for the record!), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, High School Musical AU, series collaboration with wonderwhy on AO3/riverrockets on tumblr!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 22:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17836937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrxd/pseuds/astrxd, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderwhy/pseuds/wonderwhy
Summary: (If Astrid had the chance to survey the area for any potential causes, other than dumb luck that somebody trips over their own feet and falls into a pool, she would have found no evidence of outside intervention. No stray frisbees were flying, no kids were waving around badminton rackets. Really, how tragically uncoordinated did someone have to be to fall into a pool without anyone else’s help?)[A High School Musical AU, in which Astrid Hofferson moves to Berk, becomes the newest lifeguard at Raven Point Country Club, and meets some... Interesting characters, starting on her very first day.]





	a dip in the pool, a trip--in the pool?

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!! :-) first off, thanks for your interest in this series! wonderwhy and i will be uploading a series of drabbles, not necessarily in chronological order (though we'll be sure to reorder the series as more parts are released), exploring this universe and hiccup/astrid's relationship in it. as tagged, we're starting things off in a way similar to HSM2, rather than following the plot of the trilogy to a T.
> 
> this first installment, however, is the very beginning: it focuses on establishing astrid's position in the story and introduces her to some of the gang -- and of course, hiccup.
> 
> we're so excited to share this AU with you all! :') kudos and comments are sincerely appreciated. <3 enjoy! xxx
> 
> [drabble by: astrxd // we're @astrxd and @riverrockets on tumblr!]

The reality of having parents who were athletic recruiters for their alma mater was that you moved around. A lot.

Astrid dealt with it, as she did with everything else in her life. She couldn’t blame them for their work, especially when it was keeping a roof over her head and putting food on the table. Still, they tried to make it easier on her; the relocations were always to a spacious apartment in a nice neighborhood with a good amount of surrounding high schools and, therefore, new and promising students to scout over time. The longest she remembered staying in one place was roughly a year, and the shortest...

Well, she was pretty sure that it was going to be this one: a measly three months. One season; one summer.

They moved again, this time to a little town called Berk, and Astrid found that it was a bit of a strange pick. It wasn’t a city, but there was a city nearby; it wasn’t completely isolate, but it was tucked away between lines of forests. All things considered, it was hardly an actual relocation, seeing as all they were doing was temporarily moving in with her dad’s brother, her Uncle Finn, until the next school year just about started and her parents got confirmation of their next assignments.

(Sometimes she felt like the children of superheroes in movies, always wondering if what their parents were up to was accurate to what they claimed. Were they athletic recruiters or spies? Astrid wouldn’t be surprised if they were the latter -- or even both.)

Her mom scouted golf, her dad scouted basketball, they both scouted swimming. It was pretty clear as to how and why she picked up those three particular sports during her academic career, and in spite of the fact that she’s upped and moved around with a frequency unparalleled by anybody else she knew, Astrid tended to defend and maintain her status as a star athlete. Maybe it was genetic, in her blood and coded into the structure of her muscles -- or maybe it was a crippling fear of not living up to the combined legacy of both of her parents.

Haha.

...Anyway. Summer.

Summer, summer, summer -- Astrid wanted to do something with herself this summer, almost as much as she wanted it to be over. It felt like she was in this strange transitional state: she had just wrapped up junior year, making her one season away from being a senior, meaning she was almost finished with high school, meaning college was just around the corner, meaning her life was about to completely change and she could feel it in her bones.

Three months of break, three months of toiling over applications, then four months of the waiting game. Astrid had the next school year already broken down into segments, framed around the next step she’ll be taking into her future.

To make the next three months anything but a drag where she was just waiting for her life to start again, she needed to dedicate herself to something.

Astrid considered picking up a new hobby or sport, but it didn’t quite make sense when she could just continue with the things she knew and try to get better. That lead her to research the local sites for basketball, the swimming pools, and though it was likely much more of a stretch, the golf courses. Parks, community centers… But when she punched that last one into Google, it spit out the curious name of a curious place: Raven Point Country Club.

It was the only place with fairways within a reasonable distance, which meant Astrid was inherently inclined to learn more. She learned that her uncle was a member and that he knew the owners well enough -- and she also learned that they were hiring.

It was only partially through the connections of Finn Hofferson that she landed a job at RP as a junior lifeguard. Apparently, management was all about supporting students and giving them work opportunities, so on top of Astrid’s glowing resume, getting the job was a breeze. The application was simple, her interview was a walk in the park, and proving that she could swim was just a chance for her to show off a little Hofferson athletic prowess.

All things considered, she was elated about the arrangement -- her paychecks would go straight to application fees and senior year expenses, meaning every dollar she earned as a dollar that she wouldn’t have to take from her parents. On top of that, being a lifeguard? She was _beyond_ qualified.

Raven Point Country Club -- day one. Astrid woke up bright and early and hitched a ride with her mom (since the family car was under her custody and her uncle had his own work to tend to). She arrived ten minutes early to meet with her manager (a wiry-mustached man who insisted on being called Gobber) and received her club-issued swimsuit, a jacket, a whistle, her hot-off-the-press ID and nametag -- even a pair of flip flops, though she’d come prepared with her own.

“And te show ye the ropes,” Gobber said, patting her shoulder, “ye’ll first be working with our senior, Eret.”

Astrid changed intro the simple red one-piece and the companion shorts (also red, but accented with… Black? Usually a lifeguard’s uniform was red and white, but the touch of black seemed stylish and fitting for the sleekness of the country club) before reporting to her station. She promptly learned that Eret was a bulk of muscle who started working the club fresh out of college, doing a string of things on site -- besides lifeguarding, he taught a yoga class, caddied when needed, and the likes.

The job was simple enough: stay awake, stay alert, keep eyes on the pool and do active scans from person to person at all times. Astrid was positive that she’d be just fine, even in spite of the bundle of nerves deep in her gut. Though she coached herself not to be anxious… How could she not be? She had full trust in her abilities, sure, but she wanted to do well here -- she wanted this gig to carry her through the next three months. At the very least, she was reassured by the fact that she was walking on deck and that Eret was up on the tower, watching from a higher vantage point. With the sweltering weather, kids were already populating the water by ten.

The thing about lifeguarding, though, was that nothing could be predicted. The ability to act on instinct and improvise was an absolute necessity; there was no planning ahead, no sticking to a script. Everything happened organically.

(...Well, maybe not _everything._ But Astrid doesn’t learn that until later.)

Circling the pool essentially meant that she was slowly walking the perimeter, tossing foam noodles and balls that drift towards the edges back to the gaggles of children playing their water games. She reached the rock formations that made up the observation platform, meaning she had just turned around to loop back along the pool, when suddenly, there had been an unceremonious yell, a splash, a gurgled plea for _help--_

It happened before she could really register any of it. One second, there’s only kids in the shallows, paddling around in floaties. Next second, Astrid has her eyes on someone _toppling over_ into the seven or eight-foot end. All she really gets is dark hair, given the rest of the person’s profile is blurred by motion, but the first sign that something was wrong was the shriek -- and that was all she needed.

(If Astrid had the chance to survey the area for any potential causes, other than dumb luck that somebody trips over their own feet and falls into a pool, she would have found no evidence of outside intervention. No stray frisbees were flying, no kids were waving around badminton rackets. Really, how _tragically_ uncoordinated did someone have to be to fall into a pool without anyone else’s help?)

(But she was in no position to think about any of that. There was only time for action.)

First day on the job -- first two or three hours, even -- and she already got to blow her whistle, having beat Eret to the punch. It’s a shrill, authoritative noise that pierces the air and alerts everyone in the general vicinity that there was a situation. Already, she was running from her end of the pool to the problem site, ready to spear herself into the water with a leap and layered hands--

_“He’s in! Go, go, go!”_

...Only before she could dive, a pair of hollering, whooping blonds chuck themselves into the water (completely in her way!) in twin cannon balls. Astrid’s heart seized up when she noticed their trajectory, how they seemed to be deliberately aiming for the poor guy -- kid? Teenager? She hadn’t been able to tell -- flailing and slapping at the water. God, if somebody _died_ on her watch, she could kiss this gig goodbye and she’d have to start applying to food service joints--

She reeled at the resulting splash, but a little water didn’t scare her. Apparently, as astonished as she happened to be, a frantic glance up at where Eret was stationed revealed that he was…

...Entirely unfazed.

Astrid waved at him then gestured to the pool. _Hey! Hi, hello? Yeah, shouldn’t we_ do _something?_

Eret tipped his head and lowered his sunglasses. A shrug. _Probably._

Astrid threw up her hands, exasperated. _A little help, maybe? I’m not trained for this!_

He seemed to laugh and only get more comfortable in his seat. _Oh, and you think_ I _am?_

So much for having a _senior_ lifeguard on duty.

She was lost -- beyond lost. When Astrid turned her attention back to the pool, the only shrieks she could make out between the laughing and snickering and splashing were angry demands, not… Desperate cries to prevent drowning.

“ _Ruff! Tuff!_ I’m gonna -- if you don’t get your hands off of my, get _off_ of me  _\-- stop!_ Hey!You two always gotta ruin _everything--”_

“Dude, you told us that you wanted to drown! You can’t just change your mind when we’re in the middle of drowning you!”

“Yeah, so stay down! Get ‘im, Tuff! _Hey, ow!_ No hair-pulling! Ohohoho, that’s a new low even for you, short stuff -- oh, you’re so _dead_ \--”

There was a lot of profanity that she didn’t approve of, given the population of minors staring at the scene, and all Astrid could do was continue to stand at the edge and gape at the tangled mess of limbs slapping at the water. Really, she should have been trying to break things up instead of just watching, but by the looks of things, Eret’s reaction (or rather, lack of one) seemed appropriate. This guy _wanted_ to drown? And he enlisted help to do it.

...She furrowed her brow, starting to draw up a mental narrative of what she thought was going on. If her entire summer shaped up to look like this, she would probably have to start sleeping earlier.

(And possibly take up yoga as stress relief. She could talk to Eret, maybe.)

With a huff, Astrid decidedly stooped down and crouched at the end of the pool to peer at the three battling people. The two blonds were twins and the third person was caught in the crossfire of their long arms, which were shoving and pushing and _trying_ to get their victim to go under the surface. With all of the wrestling, they’d miraculously managed to stay afloat -- not to mention struggle over to where the water was a little shallower. She feels better knowing that the actual risk of drowning is lessened by the fact that they can stand up.

“Not--” A gasp, a hacking cough, skin smacking at skin. The dark haired boy righted himself and shoved the twins off of him, before smearing sopping wet fringe away from his eyes. “Not by having you two _nut jobs_ try and actually kill me! My plan was to just fall in the pool and get rescued by the hot lifeguard babe, not swallow two gallons of nasty ass pool water ‘cause you two can’t mind your own business--”

Her silent confusion quickly lapsed into exasperated indignation -- and the way her lips twist into a scowl reflect those feelings. Hot lifeguard babe? She was an employee, damn it, not _eye candy._ It was like she was living a low-budget reenactment of that pool scene from _The_ _Sandlot._ This was all a plot to get her attention… Or, more accurately, waste her time. The cold adrenaline that raced through her veins when she first thought someone was in trouble is replaced by an annoyance that makes her chest tight.

Astrid considered clearing her throat… But she had a club-issued whistle and she was going to use it. She blew a quick note to get the attention of the three _hooligans_ (even though they were probably just as old as she was) in front of her.

All eyes had snapped in her direction. She stood back up, if only to make herself a little more imposing when she folded her arms and looked down at them. Though she said no words, Astrid was entirely certain that the unimpressed expression on her face communicated everything they needed to know.

The male twin (Tough?) clapped a hand on the mastermind’s bare shoulder. “Oof. Yep, sure looks like you got her attention.” He nodded at her, but his addendum was as nonchalant as could be. “‘Sup?”

“Hah! Grats, Snotty. Mission accomplished!” The female twin (Rough?) chortled, tossing an arm around his ( _Snotty’s?)_ shoulder. She skimmed a cupped hand across the water, splashing him square in the face.

“Would you _quit--_ ugh, _”_ He started, only to cut himself short, duck away from under her arm, deliver a retaliating splash, then tread to the edge of the pool. A smile promptly replaced his scowl -- a smile that Astrid couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at -- when he propped up his elbows on the concrete and looked up at her. “Hey, there, babe. Come here often?”

 _Oh-kay_. She took a pointed two steps back.

“Evidently. Seeing as I, you know, work here.” With one eyebrow lifted, she scoffed. “But when management told me that the pool was usually full of kids, I didn’t think that they were referencing some teenagers.”

...Well, fine -- that’s what she _wanted_ to say. And that’s what she would have said if she wasn’t an employee for a business that necessitated the very best behavior from its staff. Astrid tried to remind herself that she signed up for this; though most all establishments required courtesy to be shown towards the customer, a country club was… Different. These people were paying huge sums of money to be members and they were going to demand respect.

She took a deep breath and her eyes fluttered shut, just for a moment, as she recentered herself. These people were members, one way or another, and to be turned away from work on her first day because she lost her temper was a blow that her pride wouldn’t be able to take. She’d have to call her mom away from whatever she was doing to pick her up, or she’d have to order a Lyft and have her checking account dinged, then she’d have to explain herself to her parents and her uncle that she chewed out some rowdy teenagers and then maybe her uncle would face some repercussions because she scuffed up the local Hofferson name with some inappropriate upturn of her nose--

Ugh. _Ugh._

Reputation. The Hofferson name was built up on generations of respectable individuals, not tempestuous upstart teenagers. Rome may not have been built in a day, but if she remembered Ancient Civilizations from 8th grade correctly, it just about collapsed in one.

All of that echoes through her mind in a matter of seconds. When she opens her eyes, she’s visibly more composed -- she even plasters a broad, albeit tight and plasticky, smile across her face. Maybe if she was sickeningly pleasant and spoke through gritted teeth, he’d get the hint and she could not get fired on her first day.

“Good morning, sir,” she greeted, tipping her head… Even though it ground her gears to play nice. Her eye twitched. “I’m new on the Raven Point team, actually. Astrid Hofferson, junior lifeguard and substitute youth golf instructor.”

(Maybe she should have thought twice about this job. It was a country club, for crying out loud -- that meant that the people she’d be dealing with were loaded, influential, and in the case of this kid… Entitled.)

Tough, if that’s the name she heard right amid all of the squabbling, let out a low whistle. “Oh, man, she’s good.” His sister snorted.

“Newbies. So polite,” she drawled, tipping her head back into the water and smoothing back her hair. “Ehh. I’ll give her a day.”

“You’re kidding. I’ll give her ‘til lunch.”

“I’ll give you both two minutes,” Snotty whipped around and hissed, “to go do whatever you two are supposed to be doing before--”

“Ooh. Pushy pushy.” Ruff laughed. “What’re ya gonna do, _fire_ us?”

“Uh, yeah!”

“Bet.”

“Bet!”

(Astrid’s blood ran cold and she looked between the three people. Authority? Firing? Did this -- this _tool_ actually pull some weight around here? Were the twins her coworkers? Was she seriously being elaborately hit on by an uppity member’s uppity son? Was she still even part of this conversation?)

She struggled to turn her reeling thoughts into words, but things only got messier when a fourth person promptly tossed themselves into the fray. It wasn’t Eret stepping down from his perch on the chair, which meant that Astrid could still afford to slack off, no matter how much she hated the idea of being distracted. It was just, she just -- she needed to know what she was working with and _who_ she was working with and whether or not she could get away with a future infraction of stomping on toes or rolling her eyes--

But in any case.

A fourth person.

He was just a disembodied voice at first.

“Ruff, Tuff? Brunch was short staffed, and it turns out it’s ‘cause you guys decided to take a--h...”

Astrid glanced over her shoulder. Approaching, there was another boy -- tall. Lanky, but not gangly. He tapped the end of a pen against the face of a clipboard, and from what she could see, his brow was furrowed, but when he looked up?

He’d only been a short distance away when he announced his arrival, but when his eyes left his clipboard, only a few paces separated them. His face was a star map of freckles and his hair was choppy and auburn; Astrid noticed the way his expression went blank when they looked at each other. Her eyes drifted down. He was one of the first few people that she’s seen wearing a red-and-black polo emblazoned with “RP” on the breast, only...

Only instead of red with single black stripes on either of the shoulders and sleeves, he was in a black shirt. Black, with red color blocks on the sides -- _black_ with red, not red with black. The same kind of shirt that Gobber had been wearing. The kind of shirt that denoted management. Astrid’s gaze snapped up before she could make out what was engraved on the name tag at his breast because, _because_ \-- management--

Green eyes. Big, bright green eyes, staring right back at her.

God. Fuck. Really? _Really?_ Good grief.

Here she was, talking (could it be called talking?) to a member and two idle employees -- and now she stood face to face with a higher up who was hounding on said employees for not being at their stations and doing their jobs. Of which she was equally guilty. Sure, maybe he looked no older than herself, but the only thing that really mattered was the fact that he was wearing black. He was part of management; a supervisor. He was, all things considered, in a position to reprimand her for not doing her job either.

But she didn’t want to hear any of it. She was hoping not to hear any of it.

“--a…A--” New guy (well, not new, seeing as he was management -- but he was new to her) stammered and continued to trail off, blinking slowly. They’d been holding each other’s gazes, mutually bewildered, but where Astrid felt like she had just gotten caught with someone forcibly shoving her hand in a cookie jar, she could only wonder why _he_ was gaping at _her_.

“A? Oh! No, it’s Astrid,” someone behind her supplied. “That’s Astrid. But ‘A’ does have a nice ring to it. Hm.”

That seemed to jolt him out of his thoughts. Manager boy opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, only to shake his head. “No, Tuff, I was--I was going to say ‘because you guys decided to take a swim.’ A swim. Not a, an -- uh. An Astrid. Astrid, hi. Hi, Astrid?”

She raised a brow and tried to bite her tongue, but... “Is that a question?”

“No? No--no, it’s--” He huffed and shot her a weary look, one that made her almost feel bad for him, before looking past her and at the trio in the pool. “Look. Could you two just get to dining services? But dry off first this time. Please.”

The twins grumbled something about it being summer and for ‘H’ to ‘lighten up,’ to which ‘H’ responded with a belated sigh and a plea for them to just ‘get busy doing something, anything.’ They conceded with a ‘fine, fine, whatever you say, chief’ and heaved themselves out of the pool, leaving…

Oh.

Great.

“Hah! Good riddance,” ‘Snotty’ jeered. “Finally, you’re doing something right, Hiccup.” (Did he just wince? Astrid was pretty sure manager boy winced at that.) “Think you can leave the two of us alone now? We were kind of having a moment.”

Several things struck her then. First was that grimace. Then there was ‘Hiccup.’ She wondered if everybody around here just had funny names. Then there was ‘Snotty,’ who claimed that they were having a _moment._ Now, Astrid usually didn’t need to explain herself to anybody, but this was a special situation -- this guy was an extension of her boss, which meant that clarifying the circumstances? An absolute must.

“Let it be known that we were absolutely _not_ having a moment,” she bit out, two fingers against one of her temples as she turned away from the pool and towards ‘Hiccup.’

“Oh, c’mon, babe--”

“Don’t call me that,” Astrid whipped back around sharply, only to cringe as soon as it slipped out. Right in front of a supervisor? Fuck. Fuck her. Fuck. She puffed a short breath, gathering her cool, untensing her shoulders -- one more time, she implored herself, with charisma. But also with clenched fists. “Sir, I would sincerely appreciate it if you refrained from addressing me as that inappropriate name. I am Astrid. _Astrid.”_

...‘Hiccup’ whistled and gave her a slow nod. He didn’t look upset with her, or unhappy with her snap, just… Kind of reverent, almost. “Wow, that’s -- that was impressive. You’re good.”

She gave him a funny look, knitted brows and all. That was exactly that one of the twins said -- so what was she missing here? Wasn’t it within their job description to use honorifics like “ma’am” and “miss” and “sir” and “mister”? What was so impressive about...

“She knows what respect is, that’s all,” her attempted suitor added. “And that I deserve to be called _sir_ because I’m--”

“--Uh huh. Yep, yeah. Please stop talking, Snotlout.”

Hiccup shut him down so fluidly that Astrid couldn’t help but feel like it was her turn to be impressed. She looked over to see him with a tired look on his face -- one that ‘Snotlout’ chose not to dispute. Instead, he surprisingly accepted it, but not without muttering something under his breath as he climbed out of the pool.

(Gobber, Tough, Rough, Snotlout, Hiccup. Gee, what a cast of nicknames. Who was next, Slartibartfast?)

His departure, however begrudging, didn’t leave much to be desired except for a quicker pace. As he strutted off, Astrid struggled to ignore how he winked at her from over his shoulder, as if he was the height of beauty in… A soaking t-shirt and board shorts.

She sighed, thankful to finally be out of that situation. But she was also dreading any future ones.

Astrid steeled herself when she inevitably shifted her gaze back to Hiccup. _Hiccup_ , the guy in the manager’s shirt; _Hiccup,_ the guy with the green eyes who had looked at her like she was either something holy or something with a second head. Honestly… She couldn’t tell, but she hoped it was he former. A moment of silence passed between them; there was a wordless sizing-up of each other, both trying to figure out what was going on in the other’s head.

She’s the first one to speak, naturally -- she usually tried to be. Astrid fixed the strap of her swimsuit before sticking out her hand.

“Astrid Hofferson. I’m… New, but I’m guessing you already gathered that? Junior lifeguard and--”

“--Substitute golf instructor for the youth program,” he finished for her, fumbling to slip his pen behind his ear (um, dorky -- kind of cute?) and tuck his clipboard under his arm before taking and shaking her hand. “Yeah, I heard we got a new hire and I read up? I’m… Not weird and following you, I promise, I’m under, uh, chief of staff, so I--”

“--Know these things,” Astrid submitted, taking the liberty of finishing _his_ sentence for him next. In spite of herself, a smile quirked at her lips. He spoke with an interesting staccato cadence. “I figured. You know my name, though. Those guys called you Hiccup? Does everyone around here have a less-than-orthodox nickname, or...?”

A matching, crooked sort-of grin mirrored hers as he shrugged a shoulder. It looked a little sheepish. “Well, you met Ruffnut and Tuffnut -- that’s U-F-F, by the way -- and Snotlout. And now myself. What about Fishlegs?”

“Fishlegs.” Astrid barked out an incredulous laugh. “And Gobber, right? Can’t forget that one.”

...It took her a second to realize that neither of them pulled their hands back. Awareness seemed to dawn on Hiccup too, because before she knew it, they were dropping their grips and averting their gazes.

Hiccup was, at least. Astrid, no matter how warm her cheeks started to feel (not due to the heat, either), would always try to hold her ground and maintain eye contact. Given the fact that he was looking elsewhere, she was left to map out his face: the slopes of his cheeks, the round of his nose, the likes.

(It’s profiling, she told herself. And she was definitely not schmoozing. Astrid Hofferson didn’t schmooze because Astrid Hofferson was noteworthy enough to not _need_ to schmooze.)

“About… All that,” she exhaled, gesturing to the pool behind her before hooking her thumbs in the elastic band of her shorts. She’d fold her arms, but that would present a closed-off or stuck-up kind of air. She had to make sure that _he_ knew that she would be open and approachable to the members. But also not _too_ friendly, which was why she had to assert: “I wasn’t -- fraternizing, with that guest. Apparently those twins saved me from walking into a rescue from a fake drowning ripped straight out of Baywatch.”

Whether or not he believed her was up in the air. Though he seemed nice and lenient, Astrid was expecting a slap on the wrist in the form of a mark on her file and a ‘do better next time’ at best. Instead, however, he… Surprised her by shrugging?

Oh, how horribly unprofessional.

(But she wasn’t complaining.)

“It’s -- hey, no, I figured as much, it’s -- it’s Snotlout. The second he sees a pretty girl, his brain starts immediately… Scheming,” he said, shaking his head.

Astrid doesn’t quite catch it at first. When she does, though? A smile, somewhat wry, pulls up at her lips. She doesn’t need to say anything along the lines of ‘you think I’m pretty,’ because after two seconds of an expression that makes it look like his brain was buffering, it clicked for Hiccup. He flushed and gaped; Astrid couldn’t help but laugh.

Hot lifeguard babe and a fake drowning act? She wasn’t a fan. Being off-handedly called pretty in a way that flusters the person who said it, because they didn’t do it intentionally? Alright, fine. He was kind of cute, in that… Dorky-pen-behind-his-ear kind of way. She could give him that.

“Listen, I should get back to work,” she pressed, sweeping some hair behind her ear and saving him the pain of explaining himself. “But it was nice to meet you, Hiccup. I’ll catch you around, right?”

He seemed to have somewhat recovered from his slip up by then, though his cheeks are still tinged pink. At her prompting, Hiccup brightened a little and managed a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve -- I should… Go. And. Work. And… Make sure the twins are too, so that, and you can…” He drew a heavy sigh and reached up to scrub his hand down his face. “I’m not really helping myself here, am I?”

“As an employee to a supervisor? You’re doing great,” Astrid grinned, then dropped her voice and glanced around for good measure. “But between us, from just me to just you? Nope.”

Hiccup smiled. It was a little lopsided, but in an endearing way. Almost charming. “I’d… I’d prefer just me and just you, if that’s -- alright? I’m honestly, uh, not much of a supervisor, I just kinda keep the twins in check. Among other things.”

“So... A supervisor?” Astrid quirked a brow.

“Let’s say… Damage control.”

“Ah, okay, I think I’ve got it. A supervisor.”

“Mm. Babysitter.”

“Aren’t babysitters supposed to keep an eye on the kids at all times? I think you’re slacking.”

Hiccup laughed and waved at the pool behind her. “Excuse me? You’re one to talk. Get back to work, Hofferson.”

“I would say that you don’t tell me what to do, but alas,” she sighed, “you do, Mr. Supervisor.” Oddly enough, instead of feeling anxious about being ‘called out,’ Astrid can only find herself smiling wider and happy to engage in some repartee, of sorts.

“Alright, alright. I concede -- this time,” he surrendered, putting up a hand. “So… Have a good shift?”

Astrid set one hand on her hip and smirked. “Is that another question?”

Hiccup only smiled and shook his head before pivoting, and when she turned on her heel to start resume working herself, she wondered...

Maybe working all summer might not be all bad.

She could work this out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> haha y'all THOT it would be hiccup in the pool LMAOoooOOOoo


End file.
